The Neighbor
by virtualApocalypse
Summary: Matthew moves to a quiet town, unknowingly right next to a very loud American . Will their differing personalities clash or will they get along more than they first thought? When people from the past show up will it cause trouble between the two, or make their relationship stronger? AmeCan, Possible OOC-ness, rating may change
1. Chapter 1

Matthew was anxious to say the least, who wouldn't be with everything having been finalized on a house that you've tried to buy? He didn't need a fancy house, it was just going to be him living there after all, something not too big but not small either, like the numerous apartments he checked out previously. That was when he came across the duplex for sale, it was perfect, a nice neighborhood, no overwhelming pipe and structural problems with the building, he loved it. Now all that was left was to move in, which he was actually quite looking forward too, so he could officially have a place to call his own.

The next couple of days consisted of checking, and double checking that everything had been packed and nothing was forgotten in the now barren home of his childhood. Some people would say that they'd miss the place they grew up in, not Matthew, he was glad he was getting out of that place, sure there were good memories but not enough to overshadow the bad. He would rather leave everything in the past and start anew, which is exactly what he planned to do.

Unfortunately, the Canadians french father was out-of-town on business, he was a highly requested caterer so he often traveled the majority of the year, but he always made sure to keep in contact with his son, calling every couple of days. Since he never stayed in one place for too long he gave the house to Matthew. Francis wished his son good luck in the move, and apologized for not being able to be there for such a big milestone in his only son's life.

When the moving truck arrived two burly men stepped out and sauntered over and began transferring furniture, boxes and other various items into the empty space of the truck. It went by quite quickly with the three sets of hands, so they were able to head out not long after.

Matthew hopped into his generic red pickup truck, it was old, rusted, paint peeling, but it did its job, he was just grateful for that. The key was shoved into the ignition and the truck roared to life. One last glance was given to the place he used to call home, before he pulled out of the driveway ahead of the moving truck and drove towards his new life.

* * *

It took about an hour to finally arrive, it was only one town over, but with all the construction projects along the way, they had to make more detours than anticipated. When they finally turned onto the street where their destination resided, Matthew felt like an eight year old in a candy shop again, he couldn't wait any longer, everything was falling into place.

The duplex appeared on the left side of the Canadians vision, he slightly pressed on the brake till he stopped in front of the building, the moving truck pulling in behind him. Silently grateful that the street wasn't bumper to bumper with cars, it was quite vacant most likely everyone at work, it being midday on a Thursday. There was the occasional car along the tarmac, the one he parked behind was a navy blue '06 Chevrolet Impala, that he assumed belonged to the owner of the other half of the duplex, since it was parked parallel to the building Matthew would soon occupy as well.

He stepped out of his vehicle onto the pavement, locked the doors and pocketed his keys in the back pocket of his jeans. He took a minute to admire the house, two story's, an upstairs and downstairs, no basement, it was hot chocolate-brown with off-white trimmings, including the door, coal-black shingles lined the roof. A white porch was attached to the entrance, extending approximately two to three meters, the entire deck was spotless and bare. Two separate sets of stairs led from the porch to the side-walk, leading straight to the doors on opposite sides of the duplex. There was no partition separating the deck, allowing someone to be able to walk freely from one side to the other. The lawn was pristine, freshly mowed and devoid of any weeds that would tarnish it.

The sound of metal on metal caught Matthew's attention, the moving truck's container was opened, and the well-built workers were already starting to unload the contents as he approached. The Canadian grabbed the boxes he could lift himself and placed it where everything was to be deposited, on the grass.

It wasn't long after that, the front door was opened and the men started bringing in the furniture, Matthew had already decided what rooms were which, and where he wanted all the furniture to be placed. He directed the men where to put everything and soon he was just left with the boxes on the grass. They were only paid to help move in the furniture, there was no way he could do that all by himself, but he could bring the boxes and other miscellaneous items inside, so their job was done.

By now it was around one o'clock, Matthew decided that after bringing in all the left-over boxes he would head over to a nearby restaurant and get something to satisfy his growling stomach. He had forgotten to eat, too consumed in the move, but it could still be classified as lunch if he ate within the hour, couldn't it?

The Canadian bent down, gripped the bottom of the package then lifted with his knees. When he turned around he came face-to-face with metal framed bright azure eyes, they were expressive, full of laughter, and was that a hint of amusement hidden behind them? They were staring straight at him, as if they were almost able to see into his very soul, startled he stumbled back a few steps and dropped the cardboard box, all of its contents littering the ground.

"Hey there neighbor." The stranger - who he felt safe to assume to be the man who lived next to him - smirked, revealing his pearly white teeth to the world.

Now that the man was less than a foot from his face, Matthew was able to get a better view of him. He was dirty-blond, which was probably only a couple of shades darker than his own, with a cow-lick stubbornly sticking up, he was also a few inches taller than himself, so he was still able to look at him head-on without having to tilt his head to look at the mans face. He wore a brown leather bomber jacket that was beat up after years of wear-and-tear, underneath was a white shirt that trailed down to dark blue jeans, which were being held up by a black belt with an American flag buckle. His shoes where white with no scuffs or dirt - they looked brand new - and they were threaded with dark blue laces.

The man chuckled and extended his hand out toward Matthew, "the name's Alfred F. Jones, I guess we're going to be seeing each other a lot more from now on."

* * *

The American was looking out his window when he had spotted the new tenant, he saw the man step out of his beat up dull red truck, lock the door and shoved the key into his pocket. He was blond, paler than his own, and a couple of inches longer ending around his chin, there was also a stray curl that Alfred had the sudden urge to tug on it. He had delicate, pale looking skin that made his periwinkle hued eyes stand out, a little spark of innocence still remained in those eyes along with excitement, hidden behind rectangular shaped glasses. He was wearing a red hoodie, brighter than the color of his truck and definitely less dirty, he had on a white polo V-neck, reminding him of the Canadian flag minus the maple leaf. His legs were covered by stone-washed dark blue jeans while his shoes peeked out from under the pant legs revealing blood-red sneakers with white laces.

The movers had just left and Alfred, being the nice neighbor that he was, decided he would help the man bring in the rest of the boxes that remained on the lawn. He got up from the sofa, not bothering to turn the T.V off, and walked out the door.

The stranger had his back to him by the time the American crossed the lawn, when he turned around they were a mere foot apart, and those intriguing eyes were staring right back at him.

His new neighbor stumbled back a few steps after dropping the box he had been currently holding. He had a surprised look on his face, that was quickly being consumed by a light blush, causing Alfred to smirk.

Before things got any stranger between the two Alfred thought it was about time he greeted the man in-front of him, "Hey there neighbor." He stretched his hand out, with the expectation of a handshake, which he didn't immediately receive.

Confused, he thought that maybe introducing himself may prompt the other mans hand to shake his own. "The name's Alfred F. Jones, I guess we're going to be seeing each other a lot more from now on."

The blond man seemed to be knocked out of his reverie at the introduction, and stretched out his hand to clasp Alfred's in his own, "Matthew Williams."

They retracted their hands, and the American knelt down to pick up the items that tumbled out of the previously dropped box, mostly consisting of hockey helmets in varying sizes.

"What's with all the helmets?" Alfred asked as he kept placing them back inside the box.

"I coach kids of all ages hockey, most of them have never played before so I provide them with all the equipment." Matthew answered as he too helped put the helmets back.

Everything was soon packed inside the cardboard, so it was picked back up and Matthew headed toward the house. Alfred also grabbed a package nearby and followed behind the Canadian. "So you used to be a hockey player then?" Alfred inquired.

"Yeah, I played a lot when I was a kid, planned to play professionally too but my knee got injured during a game. I can still play, just not competitively so I teach children, maybe one day they'll have the same dream I did." Matthew said as he put down the box, Alfred following suit.

They both headed back outside to grab a few more packages.

"Well, with a coach that loves the game as much as you do, the kids will love it too." Alfred replied.

Matthew bent down to grab another box, "I hope so." He had just stood back up when his stomach decided to state its discomfort.

Alfred chuckled, "once we're done bringing in everything I know a great place to eat that's within walking distance."

"Yeah, alright." Matthew said, as he tried to will away the embarrassment he felt.

Both of the men continued to move the packages into the house, whilst making idle chit-chat. A few more trips was all that was needed to completely get all the boxes inside the duplex. Once that was done Matthew followed Alfred towards their destination, so he could finally silence his stomach.

"You never said what you do." He prodded, he wanted to know more about Alfred, the man knew more about Matthew than he knew about the American, so it was only fair, right?

"Oh, probably should have mentioned that, huh? Well, I work with the FBI, Special Agent Jones at your service." Alfred grinned.

The revelation caused Matthew to stumble, _an FBI Agent? As in the Federal Bureau of Investigation? With actual guns and the threat of being shot?_ The Canadian didn't want to jump to conclusions, so he asked,"what do you have to do?"

Alfred loved his job, so he also loved to talk about it, "I investigate federal crimes by working out in the field, interviewing suspects, executing search warrants, making arrests, things like that." He explained.

It wasn't as bad as Matthew had thought, but it still seemed unsafe. "Couldn't you get injured?"

"Of course, it's always a risk for every case, but I like to help people and if that's what it takes then so be it." He informed.

The Canadian couldn't believe how nonchalant he was being, he could potentially die and he didn't even seem to care. Matthew wasn't going to pry, it wasn't his business what the man did, and they barely knew each other anyways so why should it matter?

They continued walking, Alfred providing most of the conversation, the Canadian giving his input every once an a while. When the American stopped in the middle of what he was saying to point out, "we're here."

Matthew looked up from the pavement and saw the building the other mentioned. "Alfred, it's a McDonald's."


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred and Matthew entered the fast food establishment, it wasn't packed with people, but there were more than expected at two in the afternoon. Both men walked up to the line that had formed in front of the cashier, waiting for their turn to place an order.

There were three people ahead of them, so they wouldn't have to wait too long before they could order. Matthew looked around at the other customers who were enjoying their meals, there was a blond man in the very back, intently staring at his phone while occasionally nibbling on a french fry. Closer to Matthew there were two men sitting by a wall, one had dark brown hair and green eyes, the man across from him had his back towards the Canadian, so he couldn't see his face but he had auburn hair with a stubborn curl sticking up to his right. The two seemed to be arguing about something, well the man with his back turned seemed to be doing most of the yelling while the green-eyed man just had a fond smile on his face as he attentively looked at the upset man. The loud-mouthed stranger was shouting spit-fire Italian, Matthew had learned the basics while still in school but even so the speech was far too advanced for him to decipher the majority of what was said. He was able to catch a few of the words though, something about a tomato and a bastard? What was he yelling about?

He continued to listen in on the one-sided conversation, using his limited knowledge of Italian to try and at least understand the gist of what was being said, but before he could catch anymore words he understood a different man crossed his vision, heading towards the back of the fast-food restaurant. The man had light brown hair that reached just below his chin, matching the Canadians own, he also had cerulean colored eyes which were almost the same hue as Alfred's. The man continued on until he reached the blond man with the phone, who raised his head when the other approached. Now Matthew could see the sitting mans eyes, they were a piercing emerald-green that looked too green to be an actual eye color. The brown-haired man sat down across from the blond causing the latter to immediately shift his attention from the object that recently was the only thing he was focused on to look at the man in front of him like the phone didn't exist anymore.

Matthew turned his gaze back to the angry man, when had he stopped yelling? That wasn't the only thing that was different with the duo, who now had another pair join their table. One of the new-comers looked just like the man who had recently been spouting Italian, except his hair was a shade or two lighter, along with the same curl that was placed on the opposite side of his head, he also seemed much happier than the other, who now had a scowl on his face. They were the mirror image of each other, and you know how when you look in a mirror the image is flipped? It was just like that, they looked identical but they were completely different.

The other man who had entered the group looked very intense with his ice blue eyes, which stood out compared to his slicked back pale blond hair. He emitted an aura of seriousness that was not to be challenged, and with that the familiarity struck him, where had he seen this man before? Did they go to the same school? Maybe passed each other on the street? Matthew dug into the depths of his memories trying to remember this man with such striking features, it shouldn't be hard to remember someone like him, so why couldn't he?

Before the Canadian could recall the man, a hand waved in front of his face, "Hey Mattie, you going to order?" Alfred's voice knocked him out of his thoughts, his neighbor had already ordered and it was now his turn. He didn't even notice the line get smaller. Matthew went and placed his order, once he paid and got his food in return he picked up the red tray and walked over to the table Alfred had chosen.

Upon sitting across from the man Matthew saw the mountain of food placed on the others tray, it should have toppled over but it managed to stay upright, even though there were already a few empty burger wrappers littered around the table. How was one man able to eat so much? Matthew voiced the question, hoping to sate his curiosity.

The American swallowed the food he had been chewing before he answered, "You never know when someone will need saving, I have to keep my strength up." He explained with a giant grin plastered on his face. When he smiled like that it reminded Matthew of a child, and with the way he justified his eating it didn't help. Although, the change in his monotonous life-style was refreshing.

For the past few months the only thing on his mind was the move, packing everything up and finally getting out of there. When his last relationship turned sour, along with all the other bad memories of his childhood, it was the last straw. He couldn't have gotten out of there quick enough, he just wanted to forget it all and start over. So this was a welcomed change in atmosphere since he had been lacking in the fun department for a while. Luckily for him, his new neighbor, and friend, seemed to be able to spare some of his.

The only problem was _that man_, Matthew wanted to leave everything behind, to start over, but he knew him and the only place they could've met was in the town that he lived in not to long ago. Knowing exactly how they met was a different story though, he didn't even know the man's name, so they couldn't have been close. Maybe it was when he was working part-time at the grocery store when he was in high-school, asking if he found everything alright, all that idle chit-chat, nothing important. If he was fortunate, hopefully he wouldn't remember Matthew, most people didn't, so it might be a good thing in this situation. Perhaps if he did remember him, he'd be too busy with the other men sitting around their table to even look over to where he sat, it's not like he could do much about it though, just had to be optimistic that the man wouldn't notice him. The Canadian unconsciously slid lower into his seat, making himself smaller so the muscular man wouldn't see him, not like it would help at all, it would most likely attract his attention instead of deter it.

"Are you alright?" Matthew jumped slightly at the sudden comment directed towards him. It was only to be expected, he hadn't touched his food besides having a few fries, and then slouching in his seat he probably looked like he was sick, so it was no wonder Alfred had asked him such a question.

The mountain of food that was on the red plastic tray had diminished significantly, with only a few burgers remaining. How long had he been just sitting there? "I'm fine, I was just thinking about some things." The Canadian replied, unwrapping the burger in front of him.

"It must have been something important for you to zone out for over eight minutes." Alfred took another bite out of the half-eaten burger he was holding. Had it been that long, trying to remember where he knew the man from?

Matthew swallowed the food in his mouth so he could answer the other, "It's just hard to believe that I'm finally done moving, it's a relief."

The American nodded his head as he took a sip of his thick milkshake, "You just have to unpack everything," he pointed out.

The Canadian chuckled, "Yeah, but I have a few days before I start work to settle in so I should be able to get it done." He had finished eating his burger and moved onto the fries.

Alfred had finished his milkshake causing it to make the empty noise when there is nothing left but air. "I'm not doing anything tomorrow, so I'll help you," he offered. By now both men had finished their meals, so they put all the trash onto the food trays and walked over to the garbage-can to dispose of the paper and place the trays on top on the container. They left the fast food establishment and continued on the side-walk toward their duplex.

He had just met this man, they didn't know much about each other but he was offering to help him unpack all the boxes they had brought inside earlier in the day. Matthew expected a neighbor that was quiet and mostly kept to himself, considering it was a quiet neighborhood, he wasn't expecting someone like Alfred, he sure was different. "You don't have to do that, I don't mind doing it myself."

The American brushed off the statement, "I'm a hero and hero's help people. Besides it'll be boring to do it yourself, its way more fun if you have friends with you." He had that smile across his face again, Matthew couldn't help the small twitch at the corners of his lips, Alfred's enthusiasm was infectious.

He did have a point though, most of the time if you do something by yourself it does get quite boring, except with friends it may take longer but you have more fun while doing it. Also Alfred didn't seem like he was going to back down anytime soon, so instead of debating about it, it'd be easier to just agree, "Alright, thanks."

"Great! I'll come over at ten, see you then." They had reached their homes and after Matthew said his goodbye, they headed up their separate paths and through the doorway.

Matthew locked the door, slipped off his shoes and headed into the living area. There were numerous cardboard boxes lying on the floor by the dark grey love-seat, he grabbed a smaller box labeled 'Bathroom Supplies' before heading upstairs and into the bathroom. He placed the box onto the counter and used the keys that he was still holding to cut the tape and open up the box, he took out a couple of towels, hand soap, shampoo, body wash, tooth-brush, tooth paste and mouthwash. He left everything else inside until he was ready to put it all away, which would be after he had a shower. He turned on the tap and waited till it was the right temperature, stripped off his clothing and glasses, then stepped into the warm spray of water.

When he was finished cleaning himself he turned the water off and stepped out into the cool air, he grabbed two towels and wrapped one around his waist and used the other to dry his hair. Once it was as dry as it was going to get, he hung the towel up and put his glasses back on then headed toward his room, which was where his bag with a few pairs of extra clothing was. It was more convenient then looking through all the boxes that had his clothes inside. He grasped a white T-shirt, a clean pair of boxers and his red plaid pajama pants. He pulled on the clean clothing then headed back into the bathroom to put away all the supplies that were still in the box.

Once that was done, he realized just how tired he was from moving all the items into his house. He was glad that he had put away all of the perishable food he had packed right when the boxes were brought inside, otherwise it probably would have gone bad by now, not to mention he wouldn't have the energy to put it all away. So, what was the harm of going to sleep early, especially since he's had to stay up late and get up early to make sure everything was ready for today, he was going to catch up on some much-needed rest. His bed was only a frame and mattress at the moment so he went back into the living room to get the blankets, sheets and a pillow from the box labeled 'Bedding' before heading back up stairs. As soon as the sheets were on the bed he curled up with the blanket and fell asleep.

* * *

Matthew was awake, but he hadn't opened his eyes yet, he was content just lying there basking in the good nights sleep, it was refreshing. He slowly opened his eyes, only to be met by blond hair and blue eyes staring back at him.

He sat up quickly, "Alfred, what are you doing here?!" Matthew looked at the clock, it was just after nine, he had slept longer than he thought. "It's not even ten yet, wait, how did you even get inside?" He was sure he had locked the door, so how was he able to open it?

The American had a sly smile on his face as he held up a silver key, "I made a spare key when Kiku said I could borrow any of his video games, he wasn't always there though when I wanted a different one, so I got it copied."

Kiku must have been the previous owner, was he really okay with people just coming and going as they pleased? "He just let you copy his key?" He questioned.

"Of course, it was his idea since I came over every couple of days to swap out the old one." Well that made sense, and not just the video game aspect. What if there was an accident and he couldn't contact anyone? If his neighbor came over frequently and no one was expecting him, he wouldn't be there for days. Matthew decided that he would let the American keep the copy, just in case.

"You never said why you're here." He pointed out, while reaching over to grab his glasses that were on the nightstand.

"Oh, well I woke up before I thought I would so I came over early. Since you're not asleep anymore we should get something to eat." The Canadian now had his glasses perched on his nose.

He pulled back the blankets that had been keeping him warm, to step onto the cold hard-wood floor. "I have some ingredients for pancakes in one of the boxes downstairs, if you want that."

"Yeah, that'd be great!" Matthew had an inkling that Alfred wanted to go back to McDonald's for breakfast, but after having it yesterday he wasn't up for it. He sure was glad he decided to bring the components needed for pancakes, instead of just buying more when he went for groceries.

Not feeling up to getting dressed quite yet, he headed down the stairs with Alfred in tow and into the living room. "It should be in the box labeled 'Kitchen Stuff'." The American just nodded his head while they searched though all the boxes for the one that contained the food.

The next couple of minutes consisted of shuffling through the cardboard, opening some up and going through the contents inside. "Found it!" Alfred announced. Matthew went over and grabbed the ingredients along with a non-stick frying pan, a wooden spoon and a medium-sized bowl before heading into the kitchen. "I haven't had pancakes in forever."

The Canadian began to mix the ingredients together while he waited for the pan to heat up. "These are nothing like pancake mixes where all you add is water, there's no contest when they're made from scratch."

Alfred could now smell the delicious aroma of pancakes cooking. "When I was younger if I wanted decent food I'd have to make it myself, otherwise my dad would burn it to the point where it wasn't even food anymore. So I could only make the instant stuff." Since that was the case he would be in for a treat, Matthew was frequently complimented on his cooking, which wasn't a surprise considering his father had taught him as he grew up.

The pancakes were all cooked and he placed them on two separate plates before heading over to the table where Alfred was sitting. "You can tell me how they compare then, is there anything else you would like on your pancakes?" On the table was a bottle of maple syrup and some butter, he went back to the cupboards and grabbed two glasses and filled them with milk.

The American drenched his pancakes in the gooey liquid, to the point where they were almost swimming. "Nah, all I need is the syrup," Matthew grabbed the filled glasses and headed back to the table, handing Alfred one, he currently had his mouth full of syrup soaked pancakes.

The Canadian took a seat across from his guest, he picked up the bottle containing the sweet liquid and drizzled much less onto his own food than Alfred had. He didn't usually put butter on his pancakes because it changed the flavor of it, altering the taste of the maple syrup, he preferred the simple but very satisfying taste of pure maple syrup on his.

The next few minutes consisted of sounds made by utensils hitting the plate as the food was cut or being jabbed by fork prongs, along with the occasional sipping of milk and a chime as it was put back down onto the table.

Once both men had finished their breakfast Matthew stood up, grabbing the plates and headed over to the sink to fill it up with soapy water. Washing the dishes as soon as they became dirty was much more convenient that leaving them till later when the residue of the eaten food got stuck to the plate and became harder to wash off, so he always did it right when he was finished a meal. It also helped that the plates wouldn't stack up over time, causing him to spend more time than necessary to wash them all.

Alfred let out a sigh when he had sat back against his chair, as his hand lazily rested on his stomach as he said, "That was great Matthew. Those were the best pancakes I've ever had, maybe I should come here for breakfast every morning," a joking smile had stretched across his face.

A chuckle passed the Canadians lips as he continued to scrub the grim off of the dishes, "If you do I'll need to pick up some more food, I didn't bring much over."

"We can go and get some now, there's a grocery store a bit farther down from the McDonald's we went to yesterday," he suggested.

Matthew was surprised to say the least, this man, Alfred, had offered to help him so much already and they had just met yesterday. Was he just trying to be friendly because they were going to be neighbors now? Or did he really wish to help him? They barely knew each other, what kind of person does that for a stranger? Well, he supposed they weren't strangers, having had two meals together and spending time in his home. Even so, Matthew thought it was a bit strange. "You don't have to help me go shopping, you already offered to help me unpack, that's more than I could even ask for."

Alfred had a small smile on his face, "I don't mind, you might need help carrying everything back, besides you don't know where the store is and I can't just let my new neighbor get lost, now can I?" Matthew had finished the dishes, which had been placed on a small towel to the left of the sink, he had grabbed a hand towel to dry his still wet hands. Alfred did have a point, he didn't know the neighborhood well, in fact he just knew about the fast food restaurant they had gone to the night before, so if he did get lost there was a chance he wouldn't be able to find his way back.

"Alright, just let me grab a few things before we go," he headed back up the stairs and into the bedroom. He got out a clean shirt and pants from the duffel bag he had had his pajamas' in previously, taking off the clothes he had slept in and putting on a light brown T-shirt with a white silhouette of a moose on the chest. He tugged on his jeans that were dark grey before he picked up his wallet, cell phone and his keys that had been resting on his night stand, where his glasses had been while he slept. As he headed out of the room he put the first two objects into his pockets before heading down the stairs, where Alfred was waiting for him with his shoes already on.

When Matthew reached the bottom of the stairs he put his shoes and jacket on before following his neighbor out the door, locking it. They strolled down the short walk-way connecting to the main side-walk, turning left towards the fast food establishment.

Matthew had his hands stuffed in his red sweater pockets, it was his favorite so he wore whenever he got the chance. Alfred on the other hand had brought his arms up so his fingers were interlocked and resting behind his head before he spoke, "The store is only a block or two past the McDonald's, so it won't take much longer. What are you going to buy?" The American glanced over at the other blond, expectant.

The Canadian thought for a moment, "Some carrots, potatoes, bread, maybe a box of cereal." He had to keep in mind that they had to carry everything back so he couldn't buy anything too heavy, if it tore the plastic bag it would make the task much more difficult than it originally would've been.

"Man, that's the opposite of what I usually buy, except the cereal." It wasn't surprising, the day before he inhaled the hamburgers like they were air, the man probably went there for most of his meals. What was astonishing though was that Alfred had to be quite fit, considering his line of work, but he didn't eat a lot of healthy food and still managed to be so thin.

The two men had just passed the building with the giant yellow 'M' on top and Matthew made a mental note to remember the route they were taking so when he ran low on food he could find his way back. As they were walking the last few blocks to the store he was going through what he was in need of, so they weren't wandering around longer than necessary. There was a large building not much farther ahead of them, he assumed that was their destination, which was only confirmed a second later by the man beside him.

Matthew took out his phone as they reached the automatic doors, it was a quarter past ten, so the store wouldn't be too busy. Past the doors was a stack of black baskets with the name of the store printed on them, when they passed he grabbed one.

They decided to head to the grains aisle first, seeing as it was the closest to where they entered. As they walked down the row of food the Canadian grabbed a loaf of bread, a small box of cereal and a package of spaghetti noodles. This continued on until they went through all the rows and collected all of the items he was looking for before heading to the check-out line. "That went by quicker than I thought it would," Alfred said.

Matthew agreed as he was putting the contents of the basket on to the conveyor belt so the cashier could tally up the total. "You must be new here, I have not seen you around before." He looked up at the person who addressed him, the man behind the till was currently scanning his purchases. He was met with hazel eyes staring back at him, the man had dark-brown hair that was tied near the nape of his neck.

"Yeah, I moved here yesterday. My name's Matthew," he introduced.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Matthew, you can call me Yao." That man, now known as Yao turned to face Alfred who was standing next to the Canadian and nodded, "Alfred." Matthew turned to also look at the American and was quite stunned with the expression that was on his face, he looked upset to say the least. His brows were furrowed, causing a shadow to cast itself over his narrowed eyes. The enthusiasm that was always seen on his face was gone, leaving no trace of the usually happy American, instead it was replaced with anger, hatred, resentment. He was scowling at Yao.

Alfred growled out the dark-haired mans name, Matthew was confused. Yao had a small smile on his face, he seemed amused with the way the other man was reacting. The Canadian tilted his head, not like it would help him understand the situation, but he could tell that something corresponded between the two glaring at each other. The bewildered man paid for his grocery's, not wanting to get caught in-between the cross-fire, he wanted to get out of there as fast as he could.

He and Alfred grabbed the plastic bags, the latter leaving ahead of him, he threw a thank you behind him before following after the other man. Matthew wasn't sure what had happened between the two men but whatever it was he wasn't going to pry, it wasn't any of his business, if Alfred didn't want to tell him then he wasn't going to ask.

The walk back was silent.

* * *

When they reached the Canadians home all of the items were sorted and put in the proper place, by the time they were done it was around noon. All of the plastic bags were empty, so Matthew took them all and stored it in a vacant drawer, as soon as the last bag was placed he heard a growl. He turned toward the other man in the room who was scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin on his face, "Would you like something to eat?" He asked, a chuckled emanating from his throat.

"We haven't even started unpacking your things yet, I can wait." Matthew was getting a bit peckish as well, but he wasn't as hungry as the American seemed to be, he thought they could get through a few boxes before Alfred's stomach became an issue.

They headed into the living area, the first box that was opened was labeled 'Living Room', since it was where they already were it appeared like a good place to start. Inside was a small bookshelf that had been taken apart so it would be able to fit inside, the screws and other things needed to put it back together were inside a small bag along with the instructions. Both men took a seat on the white carpeted ground and began to take out all of the pieces, revealing books and DVDs that would be placed back onto the shelf once it was together again.

When the box was completely emptied it was moved off to the side to make room to re-build the bookshelf. It started off smoothly, sorting the pieces into categories, making sure all of the parts were present, going through the first few steps without problems, but that changed when the instructions got misplaced.

"You had it last Alfred, where did you put it?" At first the American didn't want to use the instructions, saying that he could do it with his eyes closed, which was proved wrong when the piece of paper disappeared. Matthew had reluctantly let his neighbor be in charge of the manual and what they were to do next, it was something he now wished he hadn't done.

"I put it down on top of this box," he answered, motioning to the cardboard to his right. It was the box that had held Matthews blankets and pillows, having been exhausted the night before there were still items inside. Since the box had already been opened he thought that maybe it had fallen inside, so he shuffled over to take a peek at the interior, Alfred doing the same.

Two of the flaps that close the box were already out of the way, so the Canadian grabbed the two that were blocking the inside from their view. What was revealed was a white face with beady eyes staring back at them, he froze. How had he forgotten that he had put it into this box? What was the other man going to think? A grown man owning something so childish, would he think that it was funny, stupid, or would he be made fun of? To his horror a hand reached forward and clutched the body attached to the white face, the man sat back and just stared at it. Matthew was apprehensive, shifting anxiously, just waiting for the other blond to say something.

After a couple of awkward seconds, which felt like minutes, just sitting in silence the shorter haired man looked up at the other, "I have a stuffed alien named Tony." He was taken aback, he at least expected the man to laugh, not tell him that he also owned such a thing. Matthew wasn't sure what he was suppose to do now, he just kept gaping at Alfred with a quizzical look plastered on his face, which the American pointedly ignored, "What's this guys name?"

It took a few seconds for Matthew to collect himself before he could answer, "Kumajiro." He wasn't able to say more, still getting over his initial surprise. Alfred gently placed the stuffed polar-bear back into the box, grabbing the piece of paper that had fallen inside, the other blond had completely forgotten about it.

Putting the shelf back together went smoothly after that, following the instructions exactly, a few screws rolling underneath the love-seat. The bookshelf was finally complete, they set it to the left side of the television that the movers had placed against the wall that was across from the couch, which stood in the middle of the room. They had lined up the books on the bottom level and the DVDs on the second, one box down.

Since putting the object together took longer than expected it wasn't soon after that Alfred's stomach became vocal once again, this time though they decided to make something to eat. They agreed on having sandwiches, they're easy and quick to make so they would be able to get back to unpacking everything soon and get more done. Each of them had made their own using the previously bought grocery's, they both enjoyed their food, and not long after cleaning up they got back to work.

Going through the next few boxes went by much smoother than the first one had, although it did take longer then necessary seeing as the two joked around and casually talked while unpacking everything, most of which were miscellaneous items. The cardboard boxes containing the hockey equipment remained untouched though, Matthew's employer saying that there was a small vacant storage area in the back of the locker room that he could use to store all of the hockey gear.

Unsurprisingly, Alfred stated that he would give him a hand with it tomorrow, before the Canadian could say anything to convince him that he didn't need to, the enthusiastic man declared that there were multiple boxes that need to be transported and with two of them it would go twice as fast, leaving no room to argue. It caused Matthew to sigh, he had known this man for two days and already he knew that there was no point to disagree with him because he wouldn't back down when he had his mind set on doing something. The American said that he had to check in at work during the morning so he would come by sometime after lunch so they could drop off the equipment.

Time seemed to speed up around the two blonds, before they knew it the world outside had gotten dark, the sun already below the horizon. It was a little past dinner time when they realized how late it now was, Matthew being the host he was, had offered the other blond to stay for supper. The extended invitation was politely declined, which was explained by Alfred saying that he didn't want to eat all of his food having been there for breakfast and lunch.

The American left for the night, both men saying their goodbyes, Matthew headed into the kitchen to quench his hunger. He wasn't in the mood for an intricate meal so he decided to have some simple chicken-noodle soup. It didn't take too long for it to be finished, the blond ate it in the quiet of his home, the only sound the crunch of crackers he had along with it.

When he was finished eating and cleaning up he went into the living room and grabbed a box of clothes and brought it up into his room. The cardboard was placed by his dresser which was on the right side of his bed, across from his night-stand. He transferred the clothes from the box and into the drawers of the dresser, making them easier to access. He continued this until all the boxes that had contained his clothes were put away.

Soon after he decided to go to bed, changing into a T-shirt that looked like the Canadian flag, along with light-grey sweat pants. He set his glasses onto his night-stand which was to the left of his bed before he crawled under the covers. Earlier, Kumajiro had been placed on top of the dresser, to Matthew it looked like he was watching over him, protecting him from the unknown of a new place, it brought a smile to his face. The polar-bear had been given to him by his grandmother when he was a child, just after his parents had split up. During that time he had frequently stayed with her, which was when the bear had been given to him, he had carried it around with him for many years. As he got older he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it, so he kept it close when he slept, unfortunately she had passed away during his second year of high-school. It almost seemed like she had given him Kumajiro to look after him once she was gone and felt all alone.

As he lay in bed his mind wandered toward his blond neighbor, Matthew wasn't used to people who were so eager to help others, but he was extremely grateful to the exuberant young man. He could tell that they were both quite different personality wise, it was obvious, anyone could see it. Maybe that was a good thing though, they looked similar so if they acted the same it would be like he was hanging out with himself, and eventually he'd get tired of it. At least Alfred was different, exciting, unpredictable, everything he wasn't used to, he had a feeling that he was going to like it here.


End file.
